Bushido71XS
Angel Soul, Devil Heart
- Joined
- Jul 10, 2000
- Posts
- 2,828
> Hamsters!
> If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome
> including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will
have
> you laughing out LOUD!!!
> Overview: I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. Here's what
happened:
> Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was
"something
> wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room.
> "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. I'm serious, Dad. Can
you
> help?"
> I put my best hamster-healer statement on my face and followed him into
his
> bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking
> stressed. I immediately knew what to do.
> "Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
> "Oh, my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."
> "What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" I was
> equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want
> them to reproduce," I accused my wife.
> "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she
inquired.
> (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)
> "No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most
> loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).
> "Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
> "Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, ya know," she
informed
> me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya think?)
> By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
> shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
> "Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're
> about to witness the miracle of birth."
> "OH, Gross!", they shrieked.
> "Well, isn't THAT just Great!; what are we going to do with a litter of
tiny
> little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was
> being snotty here, too. Don't you?)
> We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny
> foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't
appear
> to be making much progress," I noted. "It's breech," my wife whispered,
> horrified.
> "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
> "Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next
> appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more
> times with the same results.
> "Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could
> talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in
my
> house?)
> "Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my
son
> holding the cage in his lap. Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.
> "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be
> so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but
> this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)
> The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
> animal through a magnifying glass.
> "What do you think, Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically.
> "Oh, very interesting," he murmured.
> "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
> I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
> "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
> Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In
fact,
> that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy."
> "What!?"
> "You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into
> maturity, like most male species, they um.... er.... masturbate. Just the
> way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife.
> "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron." We were silent, absorbing
> this. "So Ernie's just...just...Excited?", my wife offered.
> "Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
> More silence.
> Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even
> laugh loudly.
> "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I
> married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.
> Tears were now running down her face.
> "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny
> little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
> "That's enough," I warned.
> We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son
> back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
> "I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.
> "Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing into laughter.
>
> If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome
> including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will
have
> you laughing out LOUD!!!
> Overview: I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. Here's what
happened:
> Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was
"something
> wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room.
> "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. I'm serious, Dad. Can
you
> help?"
> I put my best hamster-healer statement on my face and followed him into
his
> bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking
> stressed. I immediately knew what to do.
> "Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
> "Oh, my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."
> "What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" I was
> equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want
> them to reproduce," I accused my wife.
> "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she
inquired.
> (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)
> "No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most
> loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).
> "Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
> "Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, ya know," she
informed
> me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya think?)
> By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
> shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
> "Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're
> about to witness the miracle of birth."
> "OH, Gross!", they shrieked.
> "Well, isn't THAT just Great!; what are we going to do with a litter of
tiny
> little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was
> being snotty here, too. Don't you?)
> We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny
> foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't
appear
> to be making much progress," I noted. "It's breech," my wife whispered,
> horrified.
> "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
> "Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next
> appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more
> times with the same results.
> "Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could
> talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in
my
> house?)
> "Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my
son
> holding the cage in his lap. Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.
> "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be
> so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but
> this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)
> The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
> animal through a magnifying glass.
> "What do you think, Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically.
> "Oh, very interesting," he murmured.
> "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
> I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
> "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
> Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In
fact,
> that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy."
> "What!?"
> "You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into
> maturity, like most male species, they um.... er.... masturbate. Just the
> way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife.
> "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron." We were silent, absorbing
> this. "So Ernie's just...just...Excited?", my wife offered.
> "Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
> More silence.
> Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even
> laugh loudly.
> "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I
> married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.
> Tears were now running down her face.
> "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny
> little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
> "That's enough," I warned.
> We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son
> back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
> "I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.
> "Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing into laughter.
>
Thanks again for sharing.
